I have always had the greatest respect for single parents.
I never expected to become one.
Like every nervous bride on their wedding day I uttered my vows and meant them, and he who helped create them did the same.
When we brought children into the world, our lives became complete and fragmented all in a moment. Money pressures became tougher, the fragility of the girls health issues caused a strain never felt before.
Then gradually, a fair few months ago now, we realised with broken hearts that our happy ever after was not to be with each other.
And life continued, with a commitment to be the best parents we can be together whilst living apart. I am still a super mum (although Tesco’s stubbornly refuse to acknowledge this year on year) and he is still a great Dad. The removal of a wedding ring and change of name hasn’t altered our parenting style.
It has been a confusing time, I have cried out at least a small lake onto my sofa whilst also discovering a new social life with my every other weekend off.
I visited a reflexologist in September who forced a chuckle from my lips when after a brief examination of my feet, she asked how recent my separation was.
Apparently the wear and tear from dancing the night away showed on my tootsies plus the smell of martinis seeping through my skin….
I did have a good weekend before meeting her….
Single parenting has thrown some unexpected curve balls my way. It would appear I match the stereotype of a useless female far more than I realised. My achievements through the summer months consisted of learning to mow my own lawn (and refill the mower with the right petrol).
I won’t lie to you, I celebrated with Prosecco that night.
I have managed to install a new TV, let’s not mention the month that we lived without whilst I sat night after night surrounded by wires and remotes, f’ing and blinding at the black screen that refused to bow to my will.
It works now.
However the light bulbs in my bathroom are dying at speed and the fixtures seem impossible to open. I put my makeup on in front of the bathroom mirror last week, with the strength of one last 40 watt bulb. It was only when I got to the office I realised I had gone to the extreme with my bronzer and looked like an extra from TOWIE.
A true low point was changing the toilet seat…. the new one lasted a week before collapsing on its hinges and breaking in two. I may have sobbed into the bowl for a while before dusting myself off and trying a new one.
Be warned if you ever come to tea at ours, lower yourself gently onto the throne as the loo is still adverse to sudden movements.
Whilst I appreciate your marriage ending doesn’t incur a huge amount of benefits, I must I thought sleeping alone would be a small one.
I have never been a great sharer, and prefer to sleep starfish shapes across a large kind sized bed. However, it would seem since returning to my single status, someone issued a memo to the kids and the kittens that my bed is up for rent and they have all been taking turns viewing it nightly.
I have never been more uncomfortable in bed, it is a tangle of legs, tails and the unprecedented never ending fear of someone wetting. Kitten or child, I imagine both to be equally as unpleasant!
But aside from these few technical hitches, life is not so bad. The kids seem to be adjusting, they seem to realise we still love them to the moon and back again.
Friends and family have been great, despite people automatically tilting their head to one side when asking how I am…. I do worry that my marital breakdown has been the cause of some cricked necks in my local area.
And I felt I needed to write this down, I have been sharing my life’s adventures online for over four years, and this is the start of the next chapter.
And so the story continues..